Just kiss me already!
by SailorCheesy
Summary: America is totally oblivious to England and Molossia's feelings toward him. In fact, he was probably more interested in his ice cream than he was with being in a relationship. Nonetheless, Molossia and England both bet that they can get America to kiss them first. "And so, a duel for America's sweet lips was started." MolossiaXAmericaXEngland. Eventual MolAme.
1. Chapter 1

America strolls down the streets of Nevada hand-in-hand with England. The two were both happy, though England was a considerable amount more ecstatic about their newly found romance. Well, if you could call it that... England had been in love with America for years, so he was ready to marry the younger on the spot, whereas America was totally clueless of the Brit's true intentions.

"Ooooh! Iggy, I'll be right back! There's an ice cream truck!" America exclaims, pulling away and running off before the Englishman can even open his mouth.

America sprints toward the back of the line, smiling as he thinks of the delicious frozen treat that would soon be in his mouth. The glorious ice cream truck in front of him was so beautiful... Then, he was suddenly staring at the grey sidewalk as he hurtled down to meet it. He lets out a yell of surprise and throws his arms out to break his fall. Then, there's a hand on his arm, flipping him around and holding him tightly. Blue eyes widen as they stare up into the blushing and worried face of a familiar man, a micronation by the name of Molossia to be exact. America realizes he was being dipped backwards and in quite the tight embrace with the younger man, and he turns a deep red.

Molossia is shocked, staring at his perfect American beauty and his wide, innocent blue eyes that pulled him into an entranced state. Oh god, he was so beautiful... The sun was hitting him in just the right way, making his golden hair shine and his eyes glow even brighter. It fell on his perfect pink lips and his lightly tanned skin dotted the cutest and faintest freckles. His body felt weightless in Molossia's grip, yet the man could feel America's toned chest underneath the hand laid on America's blue sweatshirt. Oh _god. _America was just too much for Molossia... He was so, so perfect in every way...

"When's the wedding?" Someone calls, snapping Molossia out of his trance.

"Molossia man! What's up?" America asks, smiling a slightly nervous smile that looked so cute on his perfect face.

"A-Are you okay, M-Mr. America?" Molossia stutters with a pink blush.

"Yep! Thanks for catching me, dude!" America blushes.

Molossia turns a bit redder and stares at his blonde beauty from behind his dark tinted sunglasses. God, was America was so cute when he blushed... The only question Molossia had was why, exactly, was his perfect America blushing? Maybe he actually liked Molossia? No, that would be too much to hope for.

"Hey!" England's heavily accented voice suddenly rings in Molossia's ears and the micronation groans inwardly.

Molossia straightens the American out and blushes deeply, turning to face the Brit.

"Yes?" He asks.

"Who the hell do you think you are, randomly dipping strangers?! I could have you arrested!"

"England, dude! I know him! This is Molossia, he's a nation just like us!" America says loudly, earning him stares from passerby.

Molossia blushes and England looks agitated.

"Git! Speak quieter!" The Brit scolds.

The American grins and then throws an arm around the micronation's shoulder. "Molossia is a part of Nevada!"

"A micronation?" England smirks. "I can see it, you _are _small like one. How old are you, fourteen?"

The Molossian narrows his eyes and growls at the Brit. "I'm eighteen, for your information. And I couldn't care less if I look small, at least I don't have six eyebrows stuck to my forehead."

The Brit's nostrils flare and his cheeks heat up. "You little—"

"Guys, guys, jeez! Take a chill pill, both of ya! Molossia, this is England. I've told you about him before, right? Oh well, it's not like you wouldn't know about us even if I didn't tell ya!"

"He sounded a lot stronger and a lot younger-looking when you talked about him..." Molossia says, eyeing the Brit.

America blinks and looks at England. "Hmmm? I think he looks pretty young!" The young blonde says with a carefree smile.

England blushes. "Damn right I look young, I'm only twenty three!"

"Yeah, but really you're like super ooooold! He is strong, too! Just not as strong as me, 'cuz I'm a HERO!"

"Git!"

"Hey, you can't even deny it!" The American teases, "Remember when I was like, not even five and I picked up that buffalo? You were so fuckin' scared!"

"Because no child should be able to do something like that! You swung it around like it was a stuffed animal!"

"...I have to agree with the old guy, that's pretty scary..." Molossia says, staring at America.

God, he was _that _strong? The Molossian shivers. If America could pick up a buffalo as a baby... He could squash Molossia like a bug under his shoe, and then do the same to England. He was ten times as powerful as Molossia had thought, and somehow that just made Molossia fall even harder. Knowing America had so much power over most every nation and didn't use it made Molossia just how sweet and caring he was. If Molossia had the power to make anyone do what he wanted with brute force, hell yeah he would use it! He wouldn't hurt anybody, but he would definitely use the strength to get some recognition for his nation.

"It's not scary!" America exclaims, eyes going wide in what appears to be fear. "I'm not scary!"

Molossia and England blink, staring at the blonde curiously.

"Uhhhh..." America looks away, blushing. "Th-That..." He gasps, "Shit! I forgot about my ice cream!" America dashes off once again.

England surveys the Molossian. "What are you trying to do?" He asks, glaring.

"Excuse me?" The younger asks, glaring back.

"Are you trying to take America away from me?"

"What? Aren't you like, his dad?"

England's face heats up. "No, I'm bloody not! I asked you a question, now answer it!"

"What does it matter to you?"

"IGGYYYYYYYYY!" America's voice says, running back over, "I dropped all my money when I fell! Can I have some money?"

"Git, you shouldn't have ice cream anyway! God knows how much you eat in a day!"

America gives him the puppy-dog face.

England stares at him with a frown before sighing. "Fine." He says, reaching into his pocket, "But don't use all of this. It's all I have that's not pounds at the moment, I have to go and get American dollars soon."

"YAY! Thanks Iggy!" America calls as he runs to the ice cream truck for the third time.

England raises an eyebrow at Molossia. "What are you staring at, wanker?"

The Molossian doesn't reply, turning to look at the ice cream truck. He feels jealousy bubbling up inside of him, staring as America leans against the counter and begins to talk animatedly with a cute girl inside. After a moment, a slender hand touches his and it takes all of his restraint not to yell for America to come back. Behind him, a certain Englishman is so mad by the display that there's practically smoke coming out of his ears.

The blonde laughs and then is handed an ice cream cone and a piece of paper. He strolls back over to Molossia and England, happily licking his ice cream.

Emerald eyes stare at the piece of paper before snatching it away from America.

"What's this?" He asks, a sly grin forming on his face.

"Hey! That's mine!" America says, stumbling forward.

His scoop of vanilla ice cream starts to slide off the cone as he reaches out to grab the paper, and then, it falls off. There's a _splat! _as it hits the ground, and all three men freeze. America glances down, horrified. England's eyes go wide and he stares at the young blonde worriedly.

"E-Er..." England says nervously.

America stares at it for a second, sniffling. "My ice cream..."

Molossia reaches into his pocket. "I have some money, M-Mr. America!" He says, holding out a five dollar bill.

England holds out the phone number, and America's hand shoots out like lightning to grab it.

"AHAHAHAHA!" He says, wiping the tears he had forced himself to cry away. "I knew that would work! You guys are total suckers for tears!"

Molossia blushes. "Th-That..."

"You bloody git! That's not fair!"

America continues laughing, takes the five dollars from Molossia, and runs off for the fourth and, hopefully, final time that day.

England huffs angrily and watches America run up to the counter again. Molossia does the same, watching anxiously.

America smiles airily at the girl as she hands him another ice cream, then starts talking with her some more. England's jaw drops as she leans forward a bit more and kisses America's cheek. Molossia makes a noise of protest as America takes her hand and kisses it lightly, then runs back over to England and Molossia.

"Who was that?!" The Brit exclaims angrily.

"Huh? Her name's Allison." America says with a smile. "Damn, I am such a chick magnet." He then frowns, "Ah, shit, I gotta get rid of this phone number, though... I'm a human and she's a nation!"

Molossia raises an eyebrow. "Um... What?"

America blinks. "What?"

"You just said you were a human and she was a nation."

"What? No I didn't."

"Yes you did." England interrupts, "This is because you have those stupid headphones in too much! You can't even hear yourself speak anymore!"

"Nu-uh! If they were hurting my ears so bad, how come I can hear you? Plus, I'm a HERO! Headphones won't affect the United States of AWESOME! Maybe a damsel such as yourself has sensitive ears, but I don't!"

"A _damsel?! _I am _not _a damsel!"

Molossia grins and then laughs. "You _could_ be Rapunzel! But instead of letting down your hair, you'd let down your eyebrows!"

America laughs loudly, almost dropping his ice cream again. Molossia hurriedly reaches out and grabs America's hand, steadying it. The blonde blinks and looks up from his keeled over position, blue eyes looking at Molossia with innocent surprise. Molossia blushes, staring at their joined hands and then pulling away slowly as his heart starts doing flip-flops in his chest.

* * *

America laughs as he pulls England and Molossia into his house by their shoulders, then releases them and kicks off his shoes. His jacket comes off next, and then, he takes a running start and hurtles himself onto the couch, laughing.

"Ahhhh, I love home!" America pokes his head out from the cushions and smiles at the two.

Molossia melts under America's innocent gaze, moving to the couch and sitting as close to the young blonde as he can without it seeming like he wanted to be close. America smiles happily and bounces over toward the tan man until he's squished up against him.

"Mmm, I'm tired... You guys are good at wearing me out..." The American mumbles.

England sits down on the other side of his blonde beauty and said blonde beauty immediately falls against him, resting his mop of beautiful golden hair in the Brit's lap. His legs swing and then land on Molossia's lap. He sighs in such a cute manner as his blue eyes flutter and close that neither men can protest.

"I can't believe it's already eleven... Damn..." America yawns, burrows into England's shirt, and immediately falls asleep.

Molossia reaches over, trying his best not to move America, and grabs a blanket. Tan hands push the blanket to England, who gets the message and lays it over America.

"H-He's too much..." Molossia mumbles quietly, blushing.

England sighs and leans back

* * *

At ten o' clock in the morning, a pair of bright blue orbs open and then widen, staring into an unfamiliar face. He squints. Wait... It was Molossia! America had never seen him without glasses! And from so close up... The American moves his head back to try and get some distance between the two, but a nose bangs into the back of his skull and he lets out a squeak of surprise. England's voice moans in protest and America realizes what kind of position he was in.

The three were lying on the couch, and somehow they had ended up all lying down, with him in the middle and being held tightly by both Molossia and England. The Brit's arms were wrapped firmly around his waist and his face was buried in America's hair from behind. Molossia was holding onto America's shirt and extremely close, so close their noses had been touching until America had moved away from him. One of America's legs was over both of Molossia's, and the other had been claimed by Britain, who had it pinned underneath both of his. Overall, this was an extremely flustering position for America. Cuddling on the couch with two guys... If anyone saw...

"Molossia..." America whispers lightly, tapping the tan man's nose. When he doesn't respond, America grabs some of his black, spike up hair and pulls at it. After a moment, Molossia groans and his eyes flutter open in surprise and curiosity.

America blinks a few times, staring at the man. "Woah..." He mumbles, staring into Molossia's deep pools of blue. "Y-Your eyes... Are amazing..." They were like the sea, deep and dark and beautiful, immediately reeling America in.

The Molossian blushes deeply. "G-Geez, what the hell are we doing?" He stutters nervously. Shaky tan hands release America's now-wrinkled white dress shirt and he slides off the couch. "M-Mr. America... If you don't want him to hold you... I can get him off." Molossia suggests, hoping America would tell him to remove the Brit.

"N-Nah... I'll get up myself... Can you make breakfast?" America asks, blue eyes staring into Molossia's with such an innocent look that it was impossible for the younger man to say no.

"Okay. But only because I'm hungry!"

America laughs, "That's cool as long as you cook enough for three!"

* * *

America flashes a small smile at England before he sighs and looks at his watch. "Ah, I gotta go... I have some... errands to do." He says, noticing it was four o' clock in the afternoon.

England raises an eyebrow and Molossia looks worried at America's sudden change in mood. He had been joking around only a second ago, and now he looked very serious, something Molossia had rarely seen on the American. And he didn't like it. He liked America smiling and happy, not sighing with a deep frown and dark eyes.

"You seem quite upset about this 'errand.' What is it?" England asks.

Molossia gasps as America stands and throws half a hamburger away. England's eyes go wide.

America sighs again, eyes scanning the room for a second before he drags himself out of the room.

England's emerald orbs find Molossia's, and he quirks an eyebrow as if to say "_Do you know why he's acting so strange?" _Molossia shakes his head.

The American returns a good twenty minutes later with his hair neatly combed and slicked back, even his normally stubborn cowlick, Nantucket. He's wearing a black suit, and a different, more refined-looking pair of glasses. On his hands are a pair of elegant black gloves and on his feet are expensive-looking black dress shoes, which are very shiny. He's wearing an obviously expensive black suit, and straightening his red tie in a long mirror hanging on the wall.

Molossia sits down to avoid falling over from the way his knees were wobbling. God, America looked _amazing _when he was all dressed. His sea blue eyes glance over at England and find him to be drooling and staring at the American.

"Does this look proper and sophisticated?" America asks, turning to face them.

"Er... Yes, why?" England asks.

"My boss told me to look proper and sophisticated for my meeting today... I have to try and improve foreign affairs with a few countries and he wants me to look and act sophisticated and proper and stuff... I don't see why, all the nations already know what I'm like, but oh well..." America trails off, glancing back in the mirror. "Maybe it's just because he thinks the other nations there will be too distracted by my ass and sign the paperwork right away." He jokes.

Molossia spits out the water he had been drinking, eyes going wide.

"Dude, I was JOKING!" America laughs loudly at Molossia's reaction, "Nobody's gonna be looking at my ass!"

Molossia turns red. _Yes they will, it looks damn good in that suit... _

"England!" America points at the Brit.

England looks at him with a bored expression. "America?"

"What do you think of my ass?" America asks, turning around and wiggling it, then grinning as he sees England's face turn deep, bright red in the mirror.

"You stupid git!" England blushes.

"Aw, you're no fun!" America checks the clock, "Damn it, I should go. You guys can just stay here if you want, I'll be back in a few hours or so. The only rule is: If you break stuff, I want all the money to pay for it ready when I get back."

* * *

"...Do you have enough money for this on you?" England asks, looking around.

Molossia gulps. "We broke some really rare stuff... I don't think I have enough..." He gulps. "I heard that couch was a $1500..."

"Damn." England says, staring at it.

All the stuffing was ripped out and it was overturned, the pegs it stood on broken off. The glass coffee table America had was shattered, and the TV had a giant crack in it. Every glass object in the room was smashed or thrown in anger, and there were knives and pans and other various household things that could be used as weapons lying around.

"...We can't clean up because you smashed the broom over my head..." England says.

"And you ripped the vacuum open to pour the dust and shit into my eyes..." Molossia trails off guiltily.

"Oh, god..."

"This wouldn't have happened if you would just admit you are a creepy old pervert." The Molossian says, averting his eyes nonchalantly.

"If age was a factor, then you would be much too young for him anyway! America has been alive for hundreds of years!"

"Don't ya think he would rather have someone younger?!"

"America doesn't judge people like that, unlike you!"

"Says the person who said he wouldn't like me because I'm young! I can't imagine him ever wanting to kiss you, with those gross old lips that have probably kissed tons of people before him!"

"And what, kissing him would be your first?!" England counters, stepping closer, red-faced in anger.

Molossia opens his mouth to fire something back, but then stops. Actually, he had been his first kiss for America since the moment he met him, which had been as soon as his life began, considering the fact that America was basically his owner, what with the fact that he was living inside of America. Technically, America could make Molossia do whatever he wanted with the snap of his fingers. Molossia would loose his free will with any command, all America had to do was say "do it now" at the end.

Of course, the blonde had no idea he could do this, and Molossia wanted to keep it that way. It wasn't that he didn't trust America, it was just... First his will, then his heart, then his very soul, all given to the American... Did America really have to know just how much power he had over Molossia? Did he really have to know that his wishes could decide Molossia's fate? Did he have to know that he had ultimate power over the Molossian, that he could bend Molossia's will?

And the part Molossia couldn't get it over was how willingly he had accepted this fact. For the first year or two of his life, he had denied his feelings for America and he refused to trust him, too scared that America would find out that the micronation was his to control. But after accepting his feelings, Molossia realized that his heart was sitting in the palm of his hand. America held the power to make him do just about anything simply because Molossia was so, oh so deep in love with the American that he wanted to please America more than anything. It was almost scary how willing Molossia was to do what America wanted, but there was nothing he could do. He was desperately in love. And as far as he knew, there was no cure for the love bug.

"Oh my, you haven't kissed anyone, have you?" England asks with a small laugh. "Saving it for America, I presume?"

Molossia turns redder. "Th-That's none of your fucking business!"

"Oh, I don't know if I should laugh at you or cry for you!"

"Shut the fuck up! I bet he would kiss me before he would even THINK of kissing you!"

"Bullshit! America would rather kiss me! In fact, I bet he'll kiss me by the end of this month, he loves me so much!"

"Are you gonna put your money where your mouth is?!" Molossia growls.

"I sure as hell am! I'll bet you two hundred dollars that America will kiss me by the end of this month!"

"And I bet the same!"

"If I win, I get two hundred from you, plus you won't even attempt to make a move on him!"

"If I win, I get the same! Plus you tell America you're too old for him!"

England growls. "FINE! But kissing him doesn't count; he has to kiss you first!"

Molossia nods. "Deal!"

England holds out his hand and Molossia shakes it angrily.

And so, a duel for America's sweet lips was started.


	2. Chapter 2

After paying America back in full, helping him move all the new furniture back into his completely remodeled living room, and then watching him shovel ice cream into his mouth for an hour straight, England hurriedly decided that if he were to win this bet, he had to get his plan into action, and soon.

"America, where do you keep your extra coats? It's chilly in here..." He says, rubbing his arms as if he were cold.

The blonde in question raises an eyebrow and says "Owne secompf" around a mouthful of Neapolitan ice cream. Then, after swallowing, he stands up. "There might be some in the closet..."

England smiles. "Oh, how inconvenient! Isn't the closet where the light doesn't work?"

America turns around, brows furrowing. "Yeah... Guess we'll just have to dig around for a minute, huh? I'm sure there's a coat in there you can use..." The younger man leads England out of the room and down a dark hallway.

Molossia, sitting on the couch, feels his hands growing sweaty. He couldn't let this happen! America was going to go into a dark closet, all alone, with that six-browed old pervert! The tan man's fingers curl into fists at his sides, and before he knows what he's doing, he's jumping up and beginning to pace across the white carpet of America's living room.

If he just barged in on the two of them, it would be awkward and he might even make his precious America angry with him! But... If he didn't do _something _to get at least one of them out of the closet, he would be worried out of his mind that a very passionate make-out scene would take place. And if that happened, and America was the one to initiate it, not only would the micronation be devastated and heart broken, but he would have to cough up two-hundred dollars to England _and _refrain from letting his feelings for America come out.

"Why is everything with love so frustrating?!" Molossia angrily blurts.

Then, realizing he just said that aloud, he turns bright red and looks around to make sure nobody had heard him.

"Onhonhon~ Sounds as if you are having trouble with amour~" A French voice suddenly purrs from behind the Molossian man.

Molossia screeches in surprise, then whips around. France is standing in front of the chair he had just been sitting on, smirking with a raised eyebrow. His arms are crossed, and Molossia notes a rose held between two of France's fingers.

"How the fuck did you get here?! What the hell?!" Another thought occurs to tan man, and his eyes go wide. "Do you have a key to Mr. America's house?"

"Non, non, non. Amerique is nothing but a son to me. I am here to help you, dear Molossia. You are like a son to me also—though a rather annoying one. But that's beside the point. I am here to help you win the heart of Amerique. You were very close in the beginning, because of the geography. I can honestly say you are probably one of the closest people to dear Amerique. But probably is not enough. We must me sure of this, non?"

Molossia furrows his brow and clenches his jaw. Then, he nods slightly. "I guess..."

"Oui, I know it is important! And so, dear Molossia, this is where the beautiful me comes in! You see, I will distract Angleterre while you escape with Amerique!"

"What do you mean, 'escape' with Mr. America?"

"I do not know if he will go willingly, seeing me attacking Angleterre... You will have to take him by surprise!" France's blue eyes glitter with determination and a hint of mischief.

"I am NOT taking Mr. America anywhere forcefully! No way!" Molossia says incredulously.

France raises an eyebrow. "Do you not want Amerique's heart?"

"That's none of your fucking business!"

"Oh, I see. You would rather sit and wait for Angleterre and Amerique to kiss in the closet before deciding to take action, non? You would rather have your heart crushed because you didn't try, rather than have the chance to win Amerique's heart with a lot of effort... Young people are so lazy today..." France shakes his head.

"It's not that, you jerk! I just—I want him to be happy! And if he's happy with England—even if I can't have him—I want him to be happy!"

"And you never bothered to think that you might be what makes Amerique happy?"

Molossia's mouth immediately snaps shut. Of course he hadn't. He loved America and wanted America to love him back, but the thought of it actually happening seemed like such an impossible goal that he had never taken the thought of an actual relationship with his blonde beauty seriously. Yes, Molossia needed America like he needed air, and desperately wished that America would feel the same way back, but... It actually happening made him nervous; even a bit scared. The prospect of having a relationship with the American and then ruining it, resulting in America not wanting to see or talk to him, made Molossia shy away from doing anything romantic.

The possibility of wonderful hero Alfred Foster Jones loving tiny micronation Kevin Jones was so slim that Molossia couldn't bring himself to risk the secure friendship they had. If he threw it all away and it turned out America didn't feel the same, not only would it break his heart, but things would be extremely awkward between the two, and America might not even be able to speak to the Molossian after it. Kevin knew how nervous America got when he felt someone was making romantic advances on him (which was almost never, the blonde was much too naive). It was just too risky.

And yet... The prospect of finally getting his feeling out in the open made Molossia feel happy, and it wasn't like he didn't have _any _chance. America hugged him, complimented him, called him, and was constantly showing a vast array of affection towards the Molossian. He couldn't do all that and not mean anything by it, right? America had even bought Molossia roses on Valentines Day! He had to at least be thinking that he wanted to have a relationship with Molossia.

"Honestly, it is not like you have nothing to offer him!" France exclaims, seeing Molossia's conflicted expression. He dramatically flips his way blonde hair over his shoulder. "You are very handsome, not to mention innocent and pure. And, frankly, Amerique adores you! I can see it in the way he looks at you—the blossoming petals of l'amour! But, if you do not take a chance, we may soon see that look in his eyes directed at Angleterre!"

Molossia clenches his fists, thinking it over. If he acted on his feelings, everything between him and America could be ruined. But if he didn't... The image of America accepting England's marriage proposal flashes through the Molossian's head, and he steels himself. If he didn't do something, he would loose the love of his life. And he couldn't let that happen.

"F-Fine... Do you have any sort of plan? I can't just barge into the closet..." 7

"Oui, I do." France says with a devilish smile. His blue eyes glint with hunger, focusing in on Molossia.

"H-Hey, what the fuck kinda look is that?! Get your eyes offa me, perv!" The Nevadan says, taking a step back with a look of anger and maybe a hint of embarrassment.

Francis lunges forward, and Molossia nervously looks for some sort of weapon, but blinks when he is pushed aside.

"Just save your lover when he is in danger~ Amerique will be very impressed if you can be his hero~" France purrs. Then, without warning, he runs down the hallway and flings the closet door open.

There's a loud screech and America's voice yelling "What the fu—AHHHH!"

"HEY! GET YOUR BLOODY HANDS OFF OF HIM YOU PERVERTED FRENCH FROG!" England's voice yells.

"Mr. America!" Molossia cries, running after the sound of the voices. What the hell was happening?!

"France! Get off of me, would ya?!"

"Non!"

"GET OFF OF HIM!"

"EEEEEK! Anglettere, no hair pulling!"

"Fuckin' let go! How did you even get into my house?!"

"I let myself in~"

Molossia throws himself into the closet, immediately freezing. England had France by the hair and was currently trying to pull the Frenchman off of America, whom he was clinging to.

"What the fuck?!" The Nevadan exclaims.

"Ugh! Get OFF!" America cries.

Molossia growls and grabs the American, wrenching him away from France. The Frenchman happily jumps onto England and tackles him to the ground, laughing loudly and speaking fluent French while England screeches that he was going to cruse France into oblivion. The Molossian takes this as an opportunity to escape and drags America out of his house nervously.

"M-Mr. America, lets go get some coffee, okay?" Molossia asks nervously. He doesn't wait for a reply, pulling America down a street and into a cafe.

The blonde stares at him, eyes filled with curiosity, brows furrowed, nose crinkled, and the corners of his lips raised in a nervous smile.

"But what about Iggy?" He asks.

Molossia drags him to the counter. "He'll be fine."

"But—this is crazy, man! I need to get back there and help!"

"No!" Molossia cries desperately. "Er... I... Damn it, order your coffee and sit down with me!"

* * *

**A/N: A risky move, Molossia! ...Leaving England and France alone may not have been the best course of action...**


	3. Chapter 3

As Molossia watched his total oblivious and absolutely beautiful American sip his coffee from across the table, he starts to become more and more aware of what he had just done. He had gotten America away from England. He was alone in a dim-lighted coffee shop that smelled of sweet cinnamon with his beloved. He could make a move, maybe even confess, right here, and it would be so easy, so perfect, so romantic... He could pluck a rose from a nearby table and give it to America... He could order a small pastry and have the two share it. He could take America's hand. He could pull out his iPod, give America one ear bud and take the other, and they could listen to slow, soft music together. There were just so many things he'd love to do with America, so many romantic and cute scenarios that he'd love to experience with his perfect, wonderful, funny, sweet, charming, ditsy, and totally oblivious American.

"Molossia?" America asks, snapping the micronation from his daydreams of romancing the American.

"H-Huh?" Molossia blinks, sitting upright in his chair.

"You were staring at me."

"Oh."

"Is there something on my face or somethin'?"

"No, I was just lost in thought..." The micronation says, looking over with a pink blush.

"Oh." America sips his coffee again, then clears his throat. "Hey, is there something you wanted? I mean, you kinda just dragged me into this cafe out of the blue, so..."

Molossia's head jerks back to the American's. "I just didn't want that fuckin' pervert France to touch you, I had to get you out of there." He explains in a small voice. "He shouldn't be touching you if you say no."

America smiles at him. "Thanks."

"N-No problem."

"So... My house is going to be totally destroyed if we don't get back there soon..." America trails off.

Molossia nods. He looks around for a moment, then reaches backward and grabs a rose off a nearby table. He turns back to hand it to the American, only to find him jumping out of his chair and dropping his half-full coffee cup to the table with a clatter.

"Oh my god!" America says, leaning over the table and grabbing Molossia's jacket. He gives him the puppy-dog pout and says "Kevin can you pleeeeeeease gimme some money?! Just five dollars?! For ice cream?!" He exclaims wildly.

His electric blue eyes wide and excited, his golden hair falling around his face and touching Molossia's forehead, the way his perfect pink lips were slightly parted in such an adorable manner, all made Molossia unable to resist. The rose falls to the floor as he reaches into his pocket and hands America a ten dollar bill with a nervous smile and a giant blush. His eyes are wide behind his darkly tinted sunglasses, and when America releases him, he sighs and looks down at the deep red rose.

America sprints out of the cafe, bursting through the glass doors, and flags down the ice cream truck with an enthusiasm that would rival that of a young kid in a candy store. Molossia sighs at the obliviousness of America, watching him order and then stand out the doors with a three-scoop cone. The first scoop was blue, the second scoop white, and the third red. Molossia practically melts at his cuteness, watching the American chomp down on the brightly-colored dessert.

He wipes up the coffee America had spilled, returns the glass to the waitress, and then walks outside. America stands in the afternoon sun, already finished with the red scoop and halfway through the white one. He sighs.

"Mr. America... You're going to get brain freeze..."

"Haha! Heroes like me don't get things like that, I'm too strong for—" The American suddenly looks pained. Brows furrowed and lips quivering, he whimpers. "Owwwww! Brain freeeeze!"

Molossia sighs, taking his ice cream away from him. "You shouldn't have gotten three scoops..." He mumbles, sighing again. "It's unhealthy to eat so much ice cream, Mr. America."

"Hey! G-Gimme my ice cream!" America says, reaching out for it.

Molossia jerks his hand backward, keeping the ice cream out of the pouting American's reach. To his horror, as America jumps after it, his foot catches on a crack. He is sent face-first into the sidewalk, screeching in surprise. His slams into it, and Molossia drops the ice cream, bending over and grabbing his arm. He wrenches the American into a sitting position, staring at him worriedly. America sniffles, and then tears well up in the corners of his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry!" Molossia says urgently. "S-So sorry, Mr. America! I didn't mean for you to—I—I'll buy you some more, okay?!"

America suddenly wipes the tears away, laughing. "Oh, man. Too easy." He says, still laughing. "You fell for it—_again!" _

Molossia turns bright red. "H-Hey! That's not f-fucking funny!"

America laughs some more, than lays a hand on Molossia's shoulder. "Sorry, sorry! It's just really funny! You're such a sucker for tears!"

Molossia looks down. After a moment, he sniffles. Then, he forces his eyes to well up. He pulls off his sunglasses.

America stares at him, dumbfounded. "Molossia?! You okay?! Look, I didn't mean to make you upset or embarrassed, I was just having a little fun! I'm really sorry, okay?"

Molossia starts to chuckle, wiping at the tears and putting his sunglasses on. "Y-You fell for that?!" He asks incredulously, clutching his stomach as he laughs. "O-Oh my god, you're just as bad as I am when it comes to tears!" He laughs some more.

"Hey! No fair, man!" America says, folding his arms across his chest.

Then, he's suddenly pitching forward. A man's foot on his back presses him down at an odd angle, forcing his head between his knees. Molossia looks up at the man, who has a smirk on his face.

"Don't sit in the middle of the sidewalk, kid!" The man grins.

"HEY!" Molossia screeches, jumping to his feet. He grabs the man by the collar and wrenches him away from America. "You think that's funny?!" He asks, shoving the man into the brick wall of the cafe. "I'll kill you, damn it! Don't you EVER do something like that! I'll fuck you up!" The micronation threatens, full of rage. NOBODY hurt his America. Ever. "You so much as touch him with that stupid ugly shoe of yours ever again, and I'll gut you with a goddamn spoon!"

The man against the wall trembles. His hands raise in surrender. "O-Okay! S-Sorry!" He exclaims.

Molossia glares at him for another moment from behind his glasses, then releases the man. He immediately runs in the opposite direction. Molossia looks down and holds out a hand for America, now bright red.

The blonde takes it with a smile, letting Molossia pull him off the ground. "Thanks for that, man..." He says with a smile. "It was pretty badass."

"I'm always badass." Molossia mutters, averting his gaze, though he knew America couldn't see his eyes from behind his darkly tinted sunglasses.

"Hell yeah you are!" America says, grinning at the micronation. "You're a hero, just like me!" The American exclaims, his blue eyes alight and mouth open in wide grin.

"I'm not..." Molossia turns his head away, "I'm not a hero like you."

"Whaddya mean? You're super heroic!"

"I've never even saved someone before." The micronation says stubbornly.

"You save me all the time! You save me from being sad, being lonely, feeling like nobody cares about me..." America says in a light, shy tone. His cheeks are pink. He grabs one of Molossia's hands, smiling lightly at him. "You're my hero."

The micronation feels his face growing hot. "Mr. America..." He mumbles. After a moment, he allows himself to look at the blonde. "Y-You're my hero too..."

America's eyes suddenly light up, as if Molossia's words had just brightened his entire world. He stares at the man, smiling wider than Molossia had ever seen him. He looks awestruck and happy, like a kid who just got the gift they had been begging for.

The Molossian man waits for him to reveal more of himself, to slip past the happy-go-lucky personality he always wore and slip deeper into himself. He wanted more of America's emotional side; he wanted America to tell him personal things. Molossia was hungry to see the sensitive person behind his invincible hero act that America loved so much to play. Molossia often thought fondly of the times when America would do so, knowing he hadn't for anyone else. Molossia was the only person that America would share everything with, and the micronation took pride in that fact. He stares at America expectantly, and the blonde opens his mouth.

But all he says is "let's go home before Iggy and France destroy my house, 'kay?"

* * *

Molossia and America walk the streets slowly, hands long since having come apart. They walk side-by-side, glancing at each other every once and a while. America can't stand the silence after a while and clears his throat loudly.

"Molossia?" He asks.

"Yeah?"

"Um... Do you... Y'know, _like _England?"

Molossia suddenly freezes. "_What?" _He asks, staring at the nervous American incredulously.

"I always see you guys staring at each other and getting really close. I've seen you two like, an inch apart more than once, and I was just wondering if there's something going on... I wouldn't freak out or anything if there is, you know. I think it's great if you've, you know, found someone that makes you happy." America says nervously.

"I don't—I don't like England! _Oh my fucking god, _I would NEVER like England! In any way! Including friendship!" Molossia blurts. "It's not England I like, it's—" He cuts himself off, blushing.

America stops, blinking at the Molossian. "Who do you like, then?" He asks.


End file.
